Retreat in You
by Panthiera
Summary: Two words: comfort sex. Don't read if you're not mature enough. Concrit appreciated. UlquiHime. Oneshot. Babble


She found herself standing once again at his door, something she hadn't done in close to six months. A heavy feeling tugged at her heart, she knew what she was doing was wrong, but she was going to do it anyway. At times, what you need the most isn't always what's right.

When the door opened, she was met with a familiar face, which soon changed into an expression of surprise.

"Orihime? It's been a while."

The pale young man pulled her into an embrace, into which she eagerly, almost too hurriedly fell. Orihime buried her face into his neck and inhaled the warmth of his scent, even though it was cold winter outside. He hushed her into the condo and closed the door behind them.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked, concernedly, at the young girl who had now taken refuge in the armchair in the corner of the room, wrapping a blanket she found nearby around her slender form.

"Something strong." She responded, closing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows.

The man scoffed, curling a corner of his mouth into a smirk. "I was thinking something like tea or coffee, but hey" he said, more to himself than anything. Advancing to the kitchen cabinet, he poured two glasses of that something strong, and proceeded to hand her one.

Orihime took a swig of the substance and pulled a face as it trickled down the inside of her throat. Closing her eyes again, she released a long sigh, and averted her eyes towards her male counterpart, now situated on the edge of his bed, looking at her pensively.

Little by little, she began to see more clearly, contradictory to the usual effects of alcohol. Her gaze ran down the length of his bare, pale torso, and saw that he had nothing on other than a pair of black shorts, telling her that he was about to retreat for the night when she intruded.

"How's it been?" he finally asked, breaking the silence. Ulquiorra took a sip of his drink and then cupped the glass again in both hands, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Same old, same old." She sighed, evading the question completely. Not once did she make eye contact with him, but instead focused on the yellowy liquid in her glass, swishing it around gently.

Once again there was silence. It stayed like that for a while, the two of them staring at the object in their hands, neither wanting to touch on the real topic at hand.

"It's over." She murmured, so inaudibly that Ulquiorra almost missed it. He furrowed his brow and frowned, something he was so accustomed to doing as of late. "He cheated on me, in the end."

With that, a sob escaped her, and her eyes welled up instantly. Cheeks reddening and her face burning, Inoue suddenly felt pathetic sitting there, intruding on his privacy like that, but was stopped in her thoughts by his hand reaching for her glass, removing it to a side tablet, along with his own. He returned and took her by the hands, pulling her once again into him, the blanket falling off her shoulders back onto the armchair.

She was cold, surprisingly so. Even after being indoors for a good ten minutes already, her leather jacket gave off a cool, winter feel; her skin almost as porcelain as his own. Ulquiorra clutched her tightly, his hands gripping the small of her back, constantly at risk for betraying his level demeanour for the carnal feelings that had been building up inside him the moment he first touched her.

But there was no pretention here. Inoue had come for a reason, and that reason was simple. She needed his touch, and he was giving it to her. They both knew it, they both know how wrong it was, and how such things led to the hugest regrets in one's life, but there was little they could, or wanted, to do about it. She grabbed the back of his head with her hands, gripping his jet black hair so painfully, yet it was somehow sensual, almost pleasurable, for him. Her eyelids half closed, she pulled on him tighter and tighter, receiving the kisses and caresses he was now placing on her neck with his lips. He worked her slowly, and ran his hands up and down her back with more intensity now.

She kissed him on the lips, deeply and passionately. Hands touching his face and her body pressing ever closer to him, the impact actually forcing him backwards until they both landed on his bed. He hit his head on the adjacent wall but it went unnoticed as they revelled in each other's comforting touch. Ulquiorra reached for the waistline of her jeans, his hands resisting them as obstacles in his blind path, but finally managing to slide them downwards from the great curves that were her sensuous hips. Soon enough they were doing what they'd set out to do. All memories of their past were wiped clean for that moment they essentially longed for, night after night.

Heaven knows how long he had waited for this opportunity to hold her in his arms again, to hold her by the waist again, to taste her sweet red lips again; for her hair to brush his chest as she lingered above him, her red hot palms fiercely pushing on his chest as she worked herself into a sweat. It was bliss, tainted love for him; a searing, passionate fire for her and all of her worldly and otherworldly pains. Their hearts beat as one in the meeting of two tired, old souls, cursed to scour the universe in search of dignity and hope.

When he took the reins, she submitted and received his repeating, rhythmic, dynamic strength with great obedience, sprawled out on his bed, her arms encasing his neck in mercy. He wasn't a great talker, nor was he what some people called 'the life of the party', but he made a damn good lover, and he knew how to dry the tears imprinted on her face with actions worth more than a thousand words. Their bodies moved roughly, friction increasing the heat in their fast beating hearts until neither could take it any further and succumbed to the silence of the night.

He pulled a sheet over them both, as they lay, eyes focused on something in the distant, orange sea of morning. The light diffused through the thin, white fabric and they could see dawn slowly creeping in from under the covers.

Ulquiorra whispered to Orihime from his position of lying on her waist, both their heads still covered by the fabric. "Are you okay?" but, there was no response, at least not verbally. He lifted his head from her soft skin to study her face, and saw tears sliding down the tails of her eyes and into her hair. She pulled him closer, two figures under the melting stars; "I want you to love me so much that you forget how to live."

Ulquiorra's heart broke, seeing the look in her eyes- the pain of her own heartbreak talking him into submission. He wanted to cry for her, for the cruelty of mankind, for it was worse than sin to see Orihime cry, let alone be the cause of her sorrow. This beautiful, sensual girl, love and innocence bordering on virginal, was capable of so much that only foolish mules could have skipped the beat of her ever pure heart. All she wanted was for someone to love her wholly; to take her into his arms and give her the light of the world.

"I don't want to live, if I could die in your arms."

Ulquiorra leaned into her lips, feeling the sudden charge of longing once again. They bathed in the morning light, moving resolutely against each other, and before they knew it, it was time to go.

--

She placed a finger on his hair, wet from the shower, following the gesture with a kiss to the same spot. It was a pointless act, but meant the world to youth like them. He pulled on some clothes and she followed suit with her own, from the previous night.

"Do you want breakfast?" he inquired, hoping to find an excuse for her to stay.

She exhaled, her eye movement rapid while trying to find the right answer. "I can't. I can't stay, I have to go home and change."

The black-haired man was almost naive enough to suggest her returning after fulfilling that task, until he realised that her words symbolised a stern 'no'. He nodded, and turned on the radio, filling the room with a distance that filled the uneasy space between the two.

"Thanks for last night." She said.

Out of sight, Ulquiorra grimaced. Gratitude was the last thing he wanted from her. "It's nothing."

Orihime headed for the door, clutching her bag and checking her phone for calls and messages. There was one, but she ignored it for the time being, choosing instead to kiss a distant Ulquiorra 'goodbye' and be on her way. He greeted her at the door, following her figure descending the stairs and finally out of the front gate. His heart ached for the millionth time.

--

"Ichigo! How about this one?"

"Hey, c'mon, stop looking at your phone!"

"Ich-i-go!"

Ulquiorra was in the local market when he'd noticed that voice again, he almost didn't recognise it. It was a high-pitched, repetitive squeal- such a distortion of the low purr etched in his memory.

It wasn't like he could have avoided ever bumping into them, he just didn't expect it this time, especially after the revelation he'd been told a few weeks before. Ichigo didn't even show acknowledgement of him standing there, while Orihime had spotted him, but was trying to avoid eye contact.

He neither said nor insinuated anything, and the two parties went their separate ways.

--

'_And among the hyacinth roads they dance  
The children of tomorrow, with their enchanted hands  
Enchanted fingers and ethereal toes  
And a light-headedness the humans could not know  
For those who impede on their innocent eyes  
Their comfort, their mourning, their morning reprise  
Crush these children of the world and the world set in stone  
For a life lived in secret is a love left alone._

_--_

OWARI.


End file.
